


Five Times Heinz Gave His Nemesis Scritches And One Time He Received Them

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [118]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person, mention of offscreen sex, scritches, then they smooch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: The first time you pet his fur, it's an accident.
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [118]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/746841
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86





	Five Times Heinz Gave His Nemesis Scritches And One Time He Received Them

**Author's Note:**

> Perry soft and floof.

The first time you pet his fur, it's an accident. Barely even a _pet_. You go to grab at him, mid-thwart, succeeding only in dragging your fingers down his back.

He lands on all fours, stiff, looking about as shocked as you feel. Somehow you'd forgotten he's a _platypus_. An animal, with fur and- He recovers first, shaking it off and rising to his hind legs, glaring at you.

Oh well. At least you know his _weakness_ now, not that you'll ever take advantage of that to _defeat_ him. It would ruin the whole point.

* * *

The second time, you're walking him to the door after your scheme when you take the opportunity to drag your finger down his spine. He _punches_ you for it, which you'd _expected_ , but that can't hide the way his eyes closed like he _enjoyed_ it.

_Interesting_. Looks like Perry the Platypus isn't made of _rock_ after all, and not just because his _fur_ is so soft. Which it is.

Who would have guessed OWCA's best agent would be so _fluffy_?

You start dreaming about it after that, a vast expanse of teal fur, smooth and silky, wide enough to lose yourself in. It makes a nice change from the usual _nightmares_ , you know that much.

* * *

The third time, you'd once again invited him to watch a movie with you in your apartment that evening, and for once he'd accepted. Which is _unexpected_ , and by that you mean _actually_ unexpected. You didn't _expect_ it.

Sitting beside him now on a couch that suddenly seems _far_ too small, you squirm in place, hyperaware of just how close he is to you. Has he even _noticed_?

He glances up at you and smiles. Yeah, he noticed.

On impulse, you try for the classic "yawn and stretch" manoeuvre, settling your arm around his shoulders. He doesn't _hit_ you for it this time, so you try your luck and rub at his arm with your fingertips.

All he does is lean into your side, shockingly solid, and exhale. How do you respond to that?

By _continuing_ , apparently. Your hand drifts up to his shoulder and down his back, increasing the pressure as you go, without you ever consciously _deciding_ to do it. Mostly because you can't believe he's _letting_ you.

Then he flops over your thigh with a growl, just about melting into you, and you hold your breath. Mostly because his _fist_ could slam into your groin at any moment if he suddenly changes his mind. It's hard not to think about how close his _fist_ is every time he so much as twitches but you try anyway, focusing on massaging his tight shoulders.

Apparently he _is_ rock after all, hiding it just under his soft fur. "Sheesh, how tense _are_ you?" you complain, increasing the pressure until he's digging his fingers into your thigh. "You should really just take a _weekend_ off, you know. Or the whole _week_. We _both_ know you haven't had a _day off_ in _ages_ , since you're always _here_ instead." And even when _you_ go to take a break, he shows up _anyway_ , and you can't let him win by _default_. "You should _think_ about it, at least."

He makes a noise of disgust and shakes his head, losing more of whatever was holding him up. Stiffness, probably.

"I know fighting me is your whole _thing_ ," you continue, moving your hand down his back, "but trust me, you _need_ the break, I haven't had a good solid _thwarting_ in _weeks_. I don't even have to _try_ to trap you any more, _look_!" Dragging your fingers down his spine, you pull a groan from his throat. He is well and truly _trapped_. "Tell me if I'm wrong, Perry the Platypus: If you _could_ fight me right now, you _would_. But you _can't_."

In response, he thumps your knee with a fist, and it doesn't even hurt. Much nicer than if he'd used the other fist. Knowing him, that was the point.

Moving your hand back up to work at his shoulders, you grin smugly, because he _is_ trapped. And he _likes_ it. "Didn't think so." And _you_ can't resist gloating. Of course not, you're an evil scientist, that's what you _do_. He should be used to this by now.

Instead, you get another thump, and a flash of a hand gesture you ignore because _one_ of you has to be _polite_. Ungrateful, that's what he is.

"Do you _want_ to stop?" you ask anyway, because you have to _check_. "Because I can stop, if _you_ don't want-" There's no way he could _actually_ want this, right? Of course not. Not with _you_. "Not that I _mind_."

He huffs, reaching out to grab your _other_ hand and shove it into his fur _as well_ , which is the _opposite_ of what you'd expected, and holds it there until you start scritching. Who are you to argue? Especially with that _noise_ he's making, a deep rumble in his chest. You didn't grow up with _ocelots_ to not recognise a _purr_ when you hear one.

Clearing your throat, you mutter a "I hope you're happy, Perry the Platypus," in his general direction. Because _you_ are.

* * *

The fourth time, you'd been mid-monologue when he'd started _squirming_ , and not in the way that means he's secretly cutting the ropes. You can _tell_. He's done it enough times for you to _recognise_ it, and besides, he usually waits until you're _done_ before breaking free.

Pausing your backstory, you stand in front of him, hands on your hips. "You'd better not be trying to _escape_ , Perry the Platypus," you complain, because did he have to choose _now_ , and he shakes his head. "You're not? If you're _lying_ to me..." You don't finish that thought, because you're not sure what you'd do, and it's easier to leave the threat implied.

He twitches again, looking up at you with pleading eyes. How could you say no to _that_ face?

"Fine," you sigh, and kneel in front of the chair you tied him to. "Don't think this means I'm letting you _free_ , by the way, you're _staying_ trapped until _I'm_ done with my _monologue_. Where does it itch?"

Lifting his head, he chirrs, and his chin is so inviting you scritch it without thinking. How can you resist? His expression shifts almost immediately, open and _wanting_ as he stares at you, and you bite your lip. At least you got it _right_. And he's so _close_ , his pupils so wide...

You swallow a whimper, glancing away before you embarrass yourself. This is just a favour for a friend. Nemesis. Nothing more than that. Why would _he_ want-

His little _hand_ curls around your jaw, turning your face back to his gorgeous brown eyes, and you don't know if he moves first or if _you_ do but you're _kissing_ him now. Apparently he _does_ want to after all.

Head spinning, you pull back for air, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. "Perry the Platypus," you mumble, pressing your forehead to his as you catch your breath, "how _unexpected_ , and by unexpected I mean I didn't _expect_ you-" To touch your cheek, for one thing. He's supposed to be _tied up_. "You _were_ trying to escape!"

He just _smirks_.

So you kiss him again, since that's an _option_ now. Sure, you always _lose_ when you _fight_ him, but maybe _this_ will be different. After all, _this_ isn't a _fight_. This is your tongues battling for dominance. Which is _like_ a fight, but _not_ a fight.

Then he kicks you in the stomach and you grin breathlessly. Okay, maybe it is. And you're glad, because you _know_ how to deal with _fights_.

* * *

The fifth time had come mere hours later. Your _fight_ had ended up in the bedroom, with a whole _other_ sort of climax, and now he's lying in bed next to you with his soft belly on display. What else are you supposed to do? _Not_ curl around him and run your fingers through his fur, murmuring compliments into his ear?

He chirrs softly, stretching his arms over his head and leaving them there, then twisting to nuzzle at your jaw. Perfect, that's what he is.

"Curse you, Perry the Platypus."

* * *

You stopped _counting_ after that. You don't _need_ to bother any more, this is your relationship now. You get to _scritch_ his _warm fluffy fur_ , you get to _kiss_ him, and you still get _thwarted_ because no amount of _romance_ will ever soften his stony glare.

Life is good.

Even when you stay up all night building your _inators_ , again, and fall asleep on the floor, _again_ , these days you tend to wake up to the scent of Perry the Platypus's _tea_ because he's let himself in, _again_ , to wait for you to be ready. At least he's _polite_ about it. Sometimes he drapes a blanket over your shoulders too, so you're _warm_ while _he_ sits in _your_ armchair and watches _your_ tv.

Which is why it's so surprising to find yourself hauled onto your couch this morning, head in his lap, feeling his fingers combing through your hair. You're not _complaining_ , as such, just _surprised_. Of all the ways to wake up, you can't imagine a better one.

Holding your breath, you pretend you're still asleep so he has no reason to _stop_. Would he be doing it if he thought you'd notice?

He sighs, paw stilling. With the other, he flicks your nose, with just enough force that you know he's not actually _mad_ at you. He just knows you're _awake_. Of course he does, he's your _nemesis_ , you'd be more surprised if he _couldn't_ tell.

There's no point hiding it any more so you groan, stretching, and roll over to face him. "Good morning to you too," you mumble, nuzzling into his nice warm fur.

Rolling his eyes, he gets back to scritching your hair, and you let out a breath. What were you even worried about? His paw feels so _nice_ , and his chest is rumbling against your cheek, and you _did_ have a late night last night...

Maybe you can stay here for a while longer. That sounds nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Drafted this during NaNo, didn't quite get it edited before it was over. Oh well, now it's done.
> 
> Perryshmirtz server in series description as always.


End file.
